


rigor samsa

by moanna



Category: Morning Glories
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moanna/pseuds/moanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You build the wall because it must be built, because it will be built. You build it with faith, the trust beyond trust you feel tugging in your ribs, supporting up your spine, in that area in the corner of your mouth where your molars will grow in, teeth you can’t see, can’t feel, teeth that will push up and out and tear and be. You do it and it is done, it is, it always has been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rigor samsa

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at the MG ficathon on LJ.
> 
> Based on this definition at the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: 
> 
> rigor samsa  
> n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.

You build the wall because it must be built, because it will be built. You build it with faith, the trust beyond trust you feel tugging in your ribs, supporting up your spine, in that area in the corner of your mouth where your molars will grow in, teeth you can’t see, can’t feel, teeth that will push up and out and tear and be. You do it and it is done, it is, it always has been.

 

But that isn’t what Sarah is asking. She isn’t asking about anything more than what affects her, even if she doesn’t realize that. She’s simple, and that’s why you like her. She’s simple and self-centered, and she’s asking because she needs it to be asked, so later she can say she tried.

 

_What happened to you, Zoe?_

 

The tense is wrong. It implies something happened, past tense, finished. The flickering of that first memory comes to mind, and you know it is a happening, that you could tell her what you saw and she would understand, she would sympathize, she would be horrified and confused and shocked, but she could deal with that better than the truth. Better than the wall. Better than time.

 

_What made you like this?_

 

Flames from a fire that hadn’t been lit, warm blood on your hands in a foreign wood, an echoing scream reaching back into the past, the barrel of a gun.

 

The knowledge of what must be done isn’t just a stream of facts, it’s a sensation, sensing, filling your senses and invading your dreams, and so you build a wall in your insides, a skeleton, a shield, keeping the sensations inside yourself, so you always know and are always prepared.

 

You know what is happening now, and what will happen next. You’re prepared.

 

_Why did you call me out here?_

 

Later, you will tell yourself it’s what needs to be done.

  
  



End file.
